The last lesson on Friday afternoon for the Gryffindors was Charms. They took this particular class with the Hufflepuffs, which always caused a little bit of consternation, because all any of them wanted to talk about was Super Cedric Diggory, giving a blow-by-blow account of his performance in the Triwizard Tournament so far, forgetting that the rest of the school had all seen his display in the First Task for themselves.

But their exuberance could be forgiven. After all, Hufflepuff House rarely had anything to toast in terms of sporting success, so they were rightly proud that a student from their House had been chosen as the Hogwarts Champion. Though they didn't half bleat on about it. This wasn't such a bad thing if you were sat with Hannah Abbott, who was a bit shy and didn't talk much, but if you were saddled with Ernie MacMillan you could expect an hour of tales about Cedric the Dragon Conqueror, Cedric and the Golden Egg, and Cedric the Champion of the Meek, and so on.

So Hermione was understandably in a hurry to reach the Charms classroom early, in order to grab a desk and hope that Fay or at least one of the other Gryffindors would join her. Her mood wasn't helped by the boisterous behaviour that tended to infect the student populous, as the week's classes came to an end. They were racing along the corridors, shouting, misbehaving and generally getting on Hermione's nerves.

And her nerves were pretty frayed as it was. She hadn't heard from Harry for a couple of days, had barely even seen him in fact. She thought he would be as fevered as she'd been to share his thoughts about their Yule Ball agreement … Hermione still felt shy about calling it a 'date' … and had expected a letter from him the very next day.

But it had been a couple of days now and Harry still hadn't replied. If Hermione hadn't known better, she'd have thought that Harry was teasing her, increasing her anticipation for his next words through suspense. But that made her think of the ways that courtship often took place in her favourite Jane Austen novels, a thought that caused her mind to flutter in such silly ways that she had to sit down before she fell down.

So by that afternoon Hermione was in a very agitated state. She'd been late down to breakfast and hadn't seen Harry anywhere in the Hall, which disappointed her. She was reluctant to think just how much she was rating the quality of her days now by how often she saw Harry, as that was a perilous path to tread, but she firmly accepted this new metric for her life when she found him facing in her direction at lunch, and he gave her a little smile as their eyes met.

Because the fleeting look seemed to make the bottom of Hermione's stomach fall out.

But then she was forced to sit with her back towards the Ravenclaw table, and more importantly towards the only member of that House that Hermione had any interest in at all, which frustrated her greatly. She lost her appetite with the disappointment and simply nursed a cup of Earl Grey and ate almost nothing, until it was time to attend her last class of the day.

And so by the time she was stomping along the Charms corridor, Hermione was in a pretty foul mood. And it was all Harry Potter's fault. He was doing this to her. What did it matter that Hermione had seen him only briefly during lunch? That shouldn't be a marker of how good or bad her day was. This wasn't the sort of thing that Hermione Granger would ever think to include on her 'to do list' for an average twenty-four hours.

The usual sorts of things she'd already done. She'd earned good House points for the Arithmancy essay she'd gotten back that morning, for combining quadratic equations with magical numerology to better predict weather cycles, and Professor McGonagall had given her twenty points for turning a thimble into an almost exact replica of the Goblet of Fire in Transfiguration.

This would usually make Hermione feel that her day had been profitable and productive. But those things could all go and burn in the Goblet of Fire for all she cared, because she'd only seen Harry for five seconds or less, and that counted as a waste of a day in her book. It was barely worth getting out of bed for.

Which made Hermione feel unreasonably cross with Harry, as though it was his fault that she hadn't seen him and he was keeping his distance on purpose. The rational, sane explanations - that they didn't share any classes so weren't likely to run into each unless by sheer chance - were evicted from Hermione's world. Harry was doing this on purpose and that was that.

In this semi-obsessive state, Hermione snapped at a lot of people (because they weren't Harry), she stomped loudly against the stairs (because Harry wasn't on them with her) and she cursed lowly about the length of the corridors (because Harry wasn't going to be at the end of them). These weren't the reasons she said out loud, of course, but in her harried brain she knew this was the truth.

So when a couple of Fourth Years sprinted by, duelling like swordsmen with two of the Weasley Twins' fake wands, and crashed right into Hermione, spilling the contents of her school satchel all over the floor, her temper erupted from where it had been bubbling quite close to the surface of her skin.

"Will you all just behave!" Hermione shrieked in a shrill tenor that carried the length of the corridor. "Look what you've done! You'd better start picking those books up, you pair of buffoons!"

"Here … I'll get them."

Hermione span on the spot and choked a little, as her heart jumped unexpectedly into her throat … for Harry was standing right behind her. He smirked a little at Hermione's startled expression, then bent down to start collecting her scattered school things from where they were rolling around on the floor.

"Oh … hi, Harry," Hermione said, breathlessly. "I can do that, you know."

"I know," Harry smiled up. "But let me."

"Alright. Thank you," Hermione replied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears.

She watched as Harry carefully and deliberately piled her books to one side, then recovered her stray quills, inkpots and - to his amazement - a new pack of spare quill nibs! He grinned as he held them up to her, an act that sent a heat stealing across Hermione's cheeks.

Once everything was recovered, Harry placed them all neatly inside Hermione's school satchel, which had a great tear along the underside. Frowning at the damage, Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the rip.

"Sacculum Reparo," Harry muttered. There was a flash of light, and the bag was repaired, good as new.

"I'll have to remember that one," Hermione mumbled shyly, as she took her bag back. "I'm always breaking my satchel."

"Perhaps you should try leaving some books in the library for the rest of us," Harry teased, gently. "It'll be your spine you break next, not your bag, if you carry on lugging that lot around."

"I'll think about it," Hermione grinned. "Thanks, Harry."

"Don't mention it," Harry nodded. "Bye, Hermione."

"Bye."

Hermione watched Harry go with an awkward knot forming between her ribs. She wished her pulse would stop racing so … she could here the rushing of it in her very ears.

Just then, Fay came up on Hermione's shoulder with a very shrewd look on her face. Hermione frowned as she clocked her expression.

"What?"

"Now you have to tell me what's going on with you and Potter," Fay whispered with a smirk.

"Nothing's going on," Hermione protested. "Some boys broke my bag and Harry helped gather my things and fixed it for me."

"Is that what you think happened?" Fay twittered. "Hermione … that was a blatant act of flirting. How can you not see that?"

Hermione hooted out a laugh. "Flirting? What are you talking about? How is picking up a few books and sealing a tear any sort of flirting?"

"Because," Fay said. "Harry was the one who broke your bag in the first place! I saw it all. Those boys barely touched you, but I could see Potter behind you with his wand up his robe sleeve. He must have cast a Slicing Hex or something, because that's what broke your bag."

"Now why would he want to do that?"

"I don't know ... you tell me! Potter shouldn't even be anywhere near here. The Claws have Potions with the Slytherins this afternoon, so he has no reason to be in this part of the castle … unless that reason is you."

"Don't be daft," Hermione replied, flushing deeply at the notion.

"I'm not, but you're getting very secretive lately," Fay observed in a calculated way. "If there's something going on with you and Potter, you can tell me. I'm not like Lav and Parvati, I wont tell anyone."

"There isn't anything going on," Hermione lied impressively. "I don't know why you think he'd break my bag on purpose only to fix it again. He'd have no reason to …"

But then Hermione's voice tailed off and, almost instinctively, she thought she could have guessed what might have happened. She grinned to herself and her mind fixated on her bag, as though something in there was burning a hole in it. She hurried into the Charms classroom and yanked open the clasps on the satchel to quickly look inside.

And sure enough there, tucked neatly between her textbooks, was a thick parchment envelope with Harry's latest letter waiting patiently within.

"You sly little mage, Harry!" Hermione thought to herself. "You did that on purpose, giving me your letter like that, knowing I'd have to wait a full hour-and-a-half of this poxy lesson before I get to read it! Ooh, you are such a torment. I truly hate you a little bit!"

But she thought this last part in complete jest. She far from hated Harry. In fact, if she wasn't careful, she was a fair way to liking him very, very much. Though that wasn't a thought she wanted to have, for it felt like flirting with the forbidden.

Needless to say, the Charms lesson was anything but charming. Hermione could barely focus on anything, except for the slow, meandering passage of time. She was sure the clocks had slowed down just to prolong her teasing, as though they were in cahoots with Harry and his fiendish little plan. She didn't even notice Ernie McMillan telling her about how he was sure that Cedric Diggory would take a mermaid to the Yule Ball, now that he had learned how to understand their language.

Eventually the lesson ended and Hermione bolted from the classroom before most of the other students had even finished packing up. She caught the end of Lavender telling Parvati that there was 'definitely something up with her', but she paid it little mind. She raced through the castle, not stopping until she reached her dorm, where she kicked off her shoes and jumped onto her bed, pulling the hangings tight shut for privacy.

Harry's letter was in her hand faster than if she'd used a Summoning Charm on it, and open barely a moment later. Tucking her knees into her chest and pulling her blankets over them, she eagerly unfolded the parchment sheet and began to read.

Hi,

I know it's been a few days since what happened up on the Astronomy Tower, so I hope you haven't been calling me too many rude names for not replying sooner, but I can understand if you have been. I've just been trying to process everything, get it all straight in my head. To tell the truth, I've just been enjoying it, really. I don't smile much, I'm not known for it, but I've caught myself doing that a lot more lately. That must definitely be your fault, and the people in my House think I'm ill or something, I'm sure they do.

I find that hilarious, but also a bit concerning that they all think I'm such a grumpy old goat!

But that's why I've taken a few days to take stock before writing a reply to your letter. I just want to make sure that I'm saying the right things. People have always been interested in me … or my 'legend' … but this is different. No-one has ever made me feel that they LIKE me, like you do, and I'm not used to it. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do or say, and I really don't want to get it wrong and drive you away.

Though the most important thing I have to say is the easiest … and it's that I'm just as excited as you are to be going to the Yule Ball as your partner. I'll be honest and say I'm really surprised to say that, all parts of it. I'm stunned that I'm excited to be going in the first place, but also that I'll be going with you. I don't mean that in a bad way, like 'I can't believe I ended up going with you', but I actually CAN'T believe that I'm going with you. Last month I didn't know you much, and the idea of going to a Ball with you was in the same bracket as me flying to the Moon on a broomstick with no tail-twigs.

But now, especially because I know you so much better, I'm not only looking forward to going with you, but if you went with someone else, I don't think I'd like it.

So that's what I'm trying to say, in my ineloquent way … that if you are thankful for me asking you to go, I'm doubly thankful for you accepting the offer. I feel ashamed that I didn't try and get to know you better earlier, and I feel like I'm playing catch up now. A whole night with you sounds just the best way to correct a lot of that, so thank you so much for agreeing to go with me.

I'm also totally on board with us being weird together! I had no intention of going to the Yule Ball when it was announced, and if you hadn't agreed to it I probably wouldn't be going now. So it's going to be weird for me to be there at all, so you'll have to be a bit weird too, just so we blend together! I look forward to seeing what that looks like!

PS, your terrible puns might be enough to get Krum to change his mind when he asks you to be his date. Has he asked you yet? I'm curious to know how he took it. I get the feeling he isn't the type to accept rejection easily.

I agree with what you said about being able to talk to each other. I'd almost forgotten what your voice sounded like. Was it always that soft? I never really noticed before, but it put me at ease when we met up. I think that made the Big Meeting go a bit better. I'm sorry if I came off as overbearing, I didn't mean to if I did. I just really didn't want you to go with Krum to the Ball, for the reasons I told you and what I just said above. I think the second reason was my primary motivator, to tell the truth.

I hadn't really thought about outfits, to be honest. It sort of makes sense now why the letters we were sent at the start of the year said we had to bring dress robes. I did wonder, but obviously not hard enough. My Godfather got me some quite smart ones, but the hems on the neck and sleeves are in blue, for Ravenclaw obviously. I could change them to red if we decided to do what you suggested, but I'm happy to follow your lead either way. I don't know how these things work, so if you have a better idea, or can find out, I'm happy to do what you suggest.

I appreciate your offer to 'shield me' at the Ball, but I'm confident that those roles will be reversed on the night. We will be the subject of serious gossip, there's no point in pretending otherwise, and I apologise in advance for the attention you're going to get. If that's enough to make you change your mind about going with me, I'll understand.

If you do, there is another option that might interest you. I don't know if you've heard, but there's an annual Christmas Market that gets held in Hogsmeade village in December and the school are creating an extra designated weekend to visit the market if anyone wants to. That's pretty much tat, but it does happen to be the same date as the Winter Solstice and there is something else worth seeing.

I don't know if you've been yet - maybe you have and this is old news - but have you visited the Cairngorm Grange Passage? It's a neolithic tomb complex on the far side of the village. There are concentric standing stones that create a sort of spiral path to the middle, but on the Solstices the sun rises and illuminates a direct path to the altar at the centre. There are all sorts of precious stones set into it, and when the sun hits them they sparkle and shine in a sort of sequence, as if done on purpose by the ancient builders. I often wonder if it's a message they are trying to tell us, but it's worth seeing it even if it's only for the light show.

Apart from the altar, there are also some really cool acoustic features of the site. The ways the stones are aligned means that there are places of complete silence, because the soundwaves bounce off the stones but don't penetrate the central space. I think it's supposed to be for meditation and reflection, but it's really something to see it in action.

In other places, the stones are harmonically tuned, so that when you make a sound it resonates with the water in your cells and you feel a powerful vibration throughout your entire body. That almost gives you an out-of-body type experience. It's my favourite place in the village, but everyone else just seems to want to go to Honeydukes.

If you haven't seen it though, you might want to. It seems the sort of place you might enjoy. If you sign up to go to the market, sneak off and check out the Grange and tell me what you think. Better be quick though, I think the sign-up forms have to be in before the end of the week.

Hermione leapt up with a frantic little 'oh', pulled her shoes back on and darted out of the dorm like a witch possessed. She slalomed through the Gryffindors mulling about in the Common Room - not even stopping to apologise when she stepped on Ron Weasley's toe as she sailed past him - and tumbled through the Portrait Hole when it was opened from the outside.

A zooming sprint later and she was back in the Entrance Hall at the kiosk that she'd seen - but not registered the purpose of in her cross mood over Harry - and reading the sign she found pinned there.

HOGSMEADE CHRISTMAS MARKET WEEKEND!

The annual Christmas Fayre is returning to Hogsmeade village over the weekend of the 19 th , 20 th and 21 st of December. As a festive treat, to allow extra-curricular socialising with our visitors, we have created an extra Village Visit Weekend to enjoy this event. There will be stalls selling festive items, food and drink huts, games and amusements to enjoy with our European guests.

Any student wishing to visit will need to complete a sign-up form (found on the desk below) and post it in the box provided. A member of staff, or one of the Head Students, will then come around to check the validity of your Permission Slip for Village Visits. Entries must be in by Friday of this week, November the Fifth.

Signed, Prof. M. McGonagall,Deputy Headmistress.

Hermione wasted no time. Pulling one of the forms towards her, she quickly filled in her details and popped the sheet into the little box affixed to the desk. Then she sighed and prepared to return to her room, realising she still hadn't finished Harry's letter.

Then there was a little cough behind her.

"Hem, hem. You are intending to go to this Market then, Miss Hermy-Own-Ninny?"

Hermione took a heavy breath and closed her eyes. This was the moment then … she knew what was coming. She steeled herself for the inevitable as she turned around to face Viktor Krum. There were other people around, and she'd much rather have dealt with this situation somewhere more private, but it couldn't be helped.

Annoyed by the mispronunciation of her name, and mindful now of what it meant, Hermione scowled a little as she faced up to the much taller Krum.

"My name is Hermione. Try it … Her-my-oh-knee."

"Her-me-own-ninny," Krum fumbled.

"No … Her-my-oh-knee. Why are you adding extra bits on at the end?"

"The sounds are hard to make in my accent," Krum simpered in reply.

"No they aren't," Hermione frowned. "Repeat after me … her."

"Her."

"My."

"My."

"Oh."

"Oh."

"And, finally, knee."

"Knee."

"See? You can make all of the sounds perfectly," Hermione pointed out. "Now put them together … Her-My-Oh-Knee."

"Her … m-my … oh … k-knee. Hermione! I did it!" Krum cried, happily. "You are a very good teacher. So, are you visiting the Fayre then?"

"I'm thinking about it, though there are more interesting sites that I'll probably go to instead if we are allowed up to the village," Hermione replied, sniffily.

"Then perhaps I could accompany you? It would be nice to be shown around by an intelligent guide."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't be comfortable walking around the village with a complete stranger … not without a chaperone."

"How about something more internal, then?" Krum swooned, stepping forwards. "How would you like to be my partner for the forthcoming Yule Ball?"

Hermione swallowed an acrid lump in her throat, but kept her gaze firmly on Krum's face.

"No, thank you."

Krum looked like Hermione had slapped him. They stared at each other for a whole minute as a crowd gathered nearby, with word spreading fast about what was happening. "That is it? That is all the response I am to expect?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, simply.

"I might wonder why, with no explanation, I am so harshly rejected."

"And I might wonder, having rejected you, that you feel that I owe you a reason," Hermione fired back. "But I'll give you two, if you insist; one, I don't want to go with you, and two, I'm already going with someone else. And I'll add this … if you'd asked me first, and I'd agreed, then this other person had asked me, I'd have ditched you and gone with them. Can I make myself plainer?"

Shocked hushes broke out like violent whispers from the crowd, though it was impossible to tell which statement had caused them. Hermione held firm, totally unmoved.

"And so you really are going with -"

"Don't you dare!" Hermione hissed. "That isn't your information to give out and I forbid you from doing so. If there is any sentiment in your invitation to me then you should respect me enough to honour my wishes."

"There is genuine sentiment," Krum replied, a little miffed at the suggestion. "I have been coming to the library every day in the hopes of speaking with you, then I wanted you to be my date for this Ball when it was announced. But you will not go with me?"

"No, my feelings forbid it in every way," Hermione confirmed. "I am sorry to cause hurt to anyone, but I hope it will be short lived. I am going with someone else, I am insanely excited about that, and no other offer would even come close to his. That's the very last thing I have to say on the subject."

"Very well. I perfectly understand you feelings and I will bother you no more. Good-day, Miss Hermione," Krum bowed, then flapped away in his duck-footed manner. Hermione just glowered at the crowd, until they all hurriedly dispersed to spread the gossip around the school. Hermione frowned at that a moment, closing her eyes as she tried not to imagine the reception she'd get back in the Common Room.

And then …

"That was epic. I'm glad I got to see it."

A blast of hot breath at her ear sent a tingle right down to Hermione's toes. She snapped her head to the right and found Harry next to her, but now bent low over a Hogsmeade form that he was filling in.

"You'd make a very good stalker, do you know that?" Hermione smirked.

"I'm just used to trying not be be seen," Harry replied without looking up. "So … any regrets?"

Harry curled his eyes to the Main Door, the retreating form of Krum still silhouetted against the rapidly diminishing sun. Hermione followed his line of sight.

"None whatsoever," she sniffed. "It was easier than I thought, too."

"Glad to hear it," Harry replied, lowly. He completed the form and slipped it into the box on top of Hermione's.

Then she turned to him, rather sassily Harry thought, with one hand on her hip. She was looking at him very shrewdly.

"So … the Cairngorm Grange," Hermione whispered, looking around to make sure there was no attention on them. "Sounds fascinating."

"It really is. I'm glad you agree."

"And was that your subtle way of offering to take me to see it?" Hermione quirked.

"Thought it might be less conspicuous than the other," Harry muttered back, careful to keep his voice down. "Though I think you've done a fine job of drawing attention onto yourself about that, without any help from me."

"That was Krum's fault for asking me out so publicly," Hermione returned, loftily. "He probably thought I was less likely to turn him down if we had an audience."

"Well, you'll certainly have an audience at the Ball now, after this little show."

Hermione stepped close, but made sure she was facing the opposite way to Harry, so that it wouldn't seem obvious that they were talking. "No, Harry … we will have an audience. Because I'm still going to go with you. I'm quite determined, you know. So I hope you don't mind being gossiped about a bit more, because I meant what I said to Krum … everyone else at Hogwarts could line up to ask me to the Ball and I'd tell them all, 'no, thank you'.

"I only want to go with you."

Harry looked at her and blinked a lot. He couldn't get his head around her sincerity. "Alright then. Thanks. We'll still go if you're sure."

"Of course I am," Hermione told him, brightly. "And when it's all over, you can take me to the Cairngorm Grange Passage and show me all of the wonders that it has, and we can laugh about the things that people will be saying about us. Then you can buy me a toffee apple at one of the stalls or something, to make up for making me the centre of gossip around Hogwarts!"

Harry chortled out a laugh. "My, my … you are bossy, aren't you? You weren't kidding."

"You don't know the half of it," Hermione grinned.

"I suppose I'd better buy you a toffee apple then. But wait a minute … aren't your parents dentists? I don't think they'd approve."

"What they don't know wont hurt them," Hermione replied, playfully. "Besides, I'm getting good at keeping secrets, aren't I?"

"You are. Very good, actually."

"Thanks," Hermione beamed.

"For what?" Harry asked, confused.

"You just said I was very good," Hermione grinned. "So thanks."

"Very clever," Harry tutted with a smirk .

"Well, we both know that," Hermione replied nonchalantly. "Right, well, better get back and face the music. Oh, and I still haven't read the end of your letter."

"Have you not? Well, you really ought to," Harry advised. "I ask you a really important question at the end and it'll take a lot of thinking about before you answer."

Hermione felt her heart stop a moment. "What was it? What was the question?"

"I'm not asking you out here … not in public. You'll just have to read for yourself. See you later, Hermione."

Then Harry moved slowly past, moved so close that the back of his palm brushed against the back of Hermione's. The contact was no heavier than two moths bumping clumsily together, but it caused every inch of Hermione's skin to erupt in pinpricks of heat. Hermione watched Harry vanish into the shadows of a corridor, and only when he was gone did she feel master of herself enough to move.

Then she sprinted back upstairs towards her letter … for she just had to know what Harry was asking her.

Enjoying this story? Check out some of the others in my portfolio and don't forget my crossovers! They're worth a go, honest! Thanks for reading, and stay safe in these wacky times!